


If Three's a Crowd, What's Four?

by anonymousdragon



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Family, Foster Care, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Infertility, Mr Evans - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-07-29 03:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20075536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousdragon/pseuds/anonymousdragon
Summary: An AU where the Evans twins end up with a younger sister.





	1. Chapter 1

They had been married six years when they first start talking about adoption. The first year, when they’d been trying, but not _really_ trying, had been fine. They were still young then; he was working on securing his advancement at the firm and she was still working as a secretary, so it was fine. They had time. The second year, when she was tracking her cycle with calendars hung in the bathroom, and they were _trying_, she began to wonder if something was wrong. She had hoped to have kids by when she turned thirty, especially since she had gotten married at twenty-five. The third and fourth years she had started seeing fertility specialists, all the way in El Paso. She could not have the bridge club knowing about their troubles. The fifth year, she talked her husband into going to see his own specialists. She found faith healers, changed her diet, exercised, stopped exercising, did everything the doctors and old wives suggested, and nothing seemed to work.

They were lying in bed. It was a Saturday. She rolled off him and said, “Maybe we should adopt?”

He blinked. “Are you sure?”

“No.” She looked at the ceiling and rubbed the back of one hand across her eyes. “But I want a child. You want a child. We’ve been trying for a family for so long and there are kids who need someone. We could be that someone.”

He sat up, pushing himself back on the pillows, up against the carved wooden headboard her uncle had made them as a wedding present. “I think we should look into it.” He looked at her, and reached over to brush a tear off her cheek. “Would you want to adopt a baby or an older child?”

She shrugged. “I hadn’t gotten that far.”

“Ann, how much do you want to talk about this now?”

“This is fine.”

“Ann…”

She had started the conversation and that was enough for then.

They looked into overseas adoptions, but it was expensive, and a child was sure to be expensive themself without the added cost of acquiring one. He suggested registering to be foster parents, but she wanted a child that was theirs, not one the state or some long lost relative could reclaim. She wasn’t entirely certain her approach toward the prospect of motherhood was quite right, but she was tired of hearing how Nancy Long was pregnant with her third and seeing Victoria Harding walking around holding her four year old’s hand and she _wanted_.

And then came the news that she could have.

Ann called her husband as soon as the social worker got off the phone with her. They had been approved. Louise, the social worker, a woman old enough to be Ann’s mother and always quite sympathetic, had said they could come down to meet some of the children available for adoption, see if any of them would be a good fit. See if any of the children liked them.

He left work early and rushed home. She had time enough to change her outfit five times before he arrived though. Her final outfit was simple, something she would wear to work. A blue cardigan over a pale blouse and an a line skirt. She fixed her hair.

She did not remember the drive. She knows her husband spoke to her, but she does not remember it. The building they eventually reach was brick, not the stucco she was used to seeing. Louise greeted them at the door. She will later tell her children that no one made an impression on her until them. That the groups of children—the younger ones on their best behavior with hope, and the older ones beginning to be jaded, but still present—were there but not distinct, until them.

She saw Isobel first. The little blond girl sat kicking her heels, quietly. They were both so quiet then. Her clothes were neat, plain play clothes and she held tightly to the boy beside her. Both were crying and Ann wanted to be the one to comfort them.

There was a third boy, scribbling frantically at the walls, but Ann did not notice. She felt compelled. Almost, drawn in to the small girl. The three children were set off from the others, Isobel and Max clinging to each other, a pool of quiet cascading over them.

Louise noticed her looking. “Did you see the newspaper recently? The three children found naked and alone? These are they.”

“What do you know about them?” her husband asked. Ann was listening, distantly. She waved at the girl, and big eyes met hers.

“No one’s claimed them. There are no amber alerts, no missing persons reports. They’ll be wards of the state unless someone adopts them.”

“Are they related?”

Ann stepped closer to the kids and knelt by the table two of them were sitting at.

Louise shrugged. “We think so. We don’t have the resources to run a full family sequencing, but they’ve been inseparable since they arrive. We actually had to break our dorm rules and give them a private room because they wouldn’t be separated.” She laughed.

“Hi.” Ann said to the girl. She held a hand out.

“Oh, they haven’t talked. We think it’s trauma induced.”

A small hand, the nails clipped short, hovered above hers for a moment, and then she placed it on top. Isobel looked up and smiled.

“We’ve been calling her Isobel and then those are Max and Michael.” Louise pointed at the children in question. “I’m still hoping they’ll tell us what their names really are, but so far no luck.”

“Ann,” her husband said. “Could we talk?”

She tore her gaze from the little girl’s and looked over at him. She did not know what her face looked like, but her husband’s face softened. “Ann, please?”

She squeezed Isobel’s hand and stood. He led her out into the hall.

“We said one child. That’s all we have the house set up for.”

“So we adopt the girl.” Something in her heart panged at the idea of separating them and she hoped her husband noticed that, hoped he would compromise.

“Louise just said they wouldn’t be separated. We can’t compound their trauma.”

“We never wanted to have just one child,” She glanced up at him, hoping.

He glanced back toward the room the kids were in. “I don’t know that we have the resources to take all three. The third boy… well, he seems different.”

She nodded. “I think you’re right. He needs a wealthier family. Special attention. But the other two. We could help them. We could parent them.”

“Are you sure? Ann, they could have unknown traumas. There could be secrets they barely remember.I was reading about resurfacing memories and …”

“Shhh.” She held a finger up to his mouth. “I can feel it. She’s ours and if we need to take her brother with her, we’ll make it work. Two’s not much more than one, right?”

He nodded. “I think you really connected with her. Let’s talk to Louise.”

Louise took them back to her office. It was a small crammed room, with filing cabinet upon filing cabinet. There was a calendar on the back of the door. Ann glanced at it, the date squares teemed with appointments and the image was of a far off beach.

“There’s a fair amount of paperwork.” She said. “I know we did a lot of it already just to get to this stage, but there are still more forms. Now are you sure that you wish to adopt Isobel and Max? This isn’t an animal shelter. You can’t have second thoughts and bring them back.”

Ann reached for her husband’s hand. “We’re sure.” He squeezed her hand in his.

“All right. Everything seems to be in order. Let me go bring the children in.” She left the room and returned in short order holding Isabel and Max by their hands. Isabel kept glancing over her shoulder as though looking for something left behind.

Ann took a breath and smiled at the children. She locked thoughts of the third child away behind her concerns for these two, her two. She had who she needed. 


	2. Chapter 2

Family movie nights were her new favorite tradition. It was the one night when they let the children stay up past their bedtimes.

Her husband would stop at Blockbuster on his way home from work and pick up a Disney film the children hadn’t seen, which was all of them. And it had worked while the children still stayed silent and it had become even better when they began to talk. Isobel loved to sing along when they rewatched a movie—the Robin Hood movie had made a major impression, her husband had bought both the children toy bows to use. Ann herself had enjoyed Lion King immensely, Cinderella, not so much but she could appreciate it. Her children would curl in on either side of her on the couch. Her husband would do the dishes and join them part way through the movie, claiming that he was above kids movies, but he was the one who would sing the songs the next day while helping Max get ready for bed.

She smiled down at Max and he snuggled in closer to her. The afghan was pulled up over both of them; Izzy had tossed it off her and was scowling with intense concentration at Cruella de Ville. Ann put one hand on Max’s head and felt him echo the motion with one hand on her belly. His hand felt warm and she glanced down at him in concern. She pressed the back of her wrist to his forehead but decided it was just the contact of skin on skin that made her think that. He looked sleepily up at her and she smiled. “You’re a good kid.” She wrapped her free arm around Isobel. “You both are.”

“You’re a good mom.” He said in response.

“Shh!” Izzy said. “I’m missing the movie!”

Ann laughed and turned her attention back to the Dalmatians. The movie ran its course and she and her husband took the twins up to bed.

As she undressed that evening, she noticed a small mark, almost like a handprint on her stomach. She frowned down at it. Had one of the children been finger painting? She would have to wash it off in the shower. The colors did not seem quite right for paint though. She poked it. It did not feel like a bruise. But she was the mother of two active children. Weird marks had a way of appearing. Especially when they were around all day. She put it out of her mind and a few days later it was gone. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.

At least, until a few months later. By then, Max and Isobel both seemed comfortable with the family. They were lively and quickly catching up with seven and eight year olds who had not had mysterious traumas visited upon them. She and her husband had been discussing starting them in public school. She had been tutoring them herself, but the social learning possible in a school setting would be beneficial. The family therapist they saw had suggested as such. The children were comfortable, but would they continue to be, especially with the news she needed to verify? She had missed her period before, due to stress, illness, or just her body’s own obscure rhythms, but two months in a row? She had her husband spend a bonding day with the children and drove down to Albuquerque. Three hours there and three more back. But in Albuquerque she could buy an unexpired pregnancy test. In Albuquerque, she would not run into Sheriff Valenti while crossing the street.

It confirmed her thoughts. She needed to tell her husband, but she wanted to know how to tell the children. Would the prospect of a new sibling destabilize their feelings of belonging? There would already be the soon abrupt change to public schooling, and then an addition to the family.

She told her husband downstairs, after the twins had gone to bed. He agreed with her that they needed a plan for telling Isobel and Max, not that he had any brilliant ideas. It was still early yet, and nothing was definite. They could wait until they had a chance to talk to the family therapist.

When they finally did tell the children, it was a Sunday. Max and Isobel had just come in from playing catch with their dad and she let herself dwell on how much she loved her children, loved her husband. Max’s face was flushed with exertion and Isobel’s once tidy braids had wisps of hair poking out all the way down to the elastic.

“Kids?” She said. “How would you two feel about having another sibling?”

“You’re going to go back for him!?” Isobel said. Her face lit up with a grin.

“For…” It took her a moment to follow Isobel’s thought. A moment to tug the third child out of her memory. “No. That’s not what’s happening.”

“Oh. Then I’m good. I don’t need another sibling.” Isobel’s smile faded and she tried to leave the room.

“Is, we’re still talking.” Mr. Evans said.

“I’m pregnant.” Ann said. She had worn a tighter shirt today. She had been beginning to show recently and had made an effort to keep it concealed from the kids until they had the chance to speak. But she thought it best to have it all on display so to speak now.

Max glanced over at Izzy who was scowling at the linoleum floor. “What’s that mean for us?” He asked.

“You’re our kids.” She said. “You’ll always be our children. It just means you’ll get to be big siblings. I want you to love your little sibling just as much as each other.”

She recognized the stubborn look on Isobel’s face, but could not think of how to resolve this now.

“I already have a second sibling. I don’t need a third.” Isobel said. Max nodded, one hand reaching over to grab hers.

“Hey.” That was her husband. “I know you’re upset about this, but you’re going to be getting another sibling. This is unexpected for your mother and me as well. We thought we were only going to have you, but now that there’s another child coming, we’re all going to prepare and welcome the kid to the family. Understand?”

“I guess.” Max said.

“Isobel?” he prompted.

“That doesn’t mean I like it.”

“You’re going to give this baby a chance though, Isobel. You can’t just decide not to like this without giving it a chance. I know it’s a surprise to you, but there’s time before the baby comes.”

“Fine!” She pushed past them and stomped upstairs.

Ann closed her eyes. She would have to talk to Isobel. She would have to talk to Max too, and all that on top of still being on the unsure side about her pregnancy.


	3. Chapter 3

Bridge club had been happy for her when Isobel and Max first came home. Victoria admitted her jealousy that Ann had not had to cope with childbirth to acquire two delightful offspring and even Nancy had found some backhandedly congratulatory remark to make. Ann had been unimpressed with Victoria’s comments, but they were certainly better than Nancy’s.

It was when they were meeting at Laureen’s and Nancy brought out the wine that she had to admit her pregnancy.

“Not today, thank you.” She waved Nancy off as she shuffled the cards.

“Surely you need some.” Victoria said, delicately twirling her glass as she lounged in the armchair. She was overdressed for bridge club, having left a hat worthy of the Kentucky Derby on the coat rack as she came in. “I remember when Al was that age. Always ran me ragged. And that was only with one child, not two!”

She took a deep breath in as she considered. She glanced around the room, an expansive size with four tables neatly arranged to allow for the games of bridge that they were nominally playing. Laureen always set out a nice array of finger sandwiches and other snacks, and that was up against the windows. The sunlight came in above them and she looked out into the yard.

“I’ve sworn off wine for the time being.” She said.

“The last time you did that was when you were trying that treatment.” Laureen said. And of course, despite all of Laureen’s visual taste, she did lack the sense God gave a goose.

“Oh, did you and Mr. Evans decide to try for one that’s actually yours?” Nancy asked.

“Say that again.” Ann set down the cards on the table. “My children are mine regardless of blood.”

“Well, did you?”

“I am pregnant if that’s what you’re asking, Nancy. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“You must be glad you had a practice round with the adoptees.”

In retrospect, Ann thinks her bridge club ban would have ended sooner had she slapped Nancy. The other women could have accepted a slap. They did all agree that Nancy had ‘crossed a line’. But a slap felt too restrained for the anger coursing up through her bones. So instead of a slap, Ann pulled back and punched the pinched faced woman full in the mouth. She might have knocked a tooth loose.

Laureen gasped, Victoria shrieked, and Janet dropped a glass.

“How dare you!” Ann trembled with rage. Isobel and Max were her children just as much as whoever was in her womb. She desperately hoped none of the children’s schoolmates would make a similar comment to them. “You small minded bitter shrew!”

Nancy had not stood up from where she had fallen back into the chair. One hand was clasped to her face and her eyes were wide with shock.

“Ann!” Laureen shrieked.

Ann looked around the room. Claire raised her glass and gave her a nod. Maude’s perfectly plucked eyebrows had risen to give her a look of great dismay. Other women were beginning to comment on the altercation, delicately avoiding casting blame, though they all eyed Ann and Nancy with approbation.

“I believe I’ll be going now.” Ann said, easing herself out of the center of attention. “Thank you for the day Laureen. Ladies.” She nodded and tried to make as graceful an exit as possible.

The phone call that evening, from Laureen of course, was stammering and apologetic, but quite clear. Neither she nor Nancy would be welcome at bridge club meetings for quite a while. The ban was ill defined, but definite, and with a third child on the way, she decided she had more important things to concentrate on anyways. Such as how to make clear to Isobel that her pregnancy did not mean Isobel was any less important to the family. Such as how to get Max to talk to children who weren’t Isobel. Such as… such as parenting.

**Author's Note:**

> adoption & infertility here are for the purpose of plot; not seriously researched. (chapter 1 can be read as canon compliant)
> 
> (Apologies to Mr. Evans, but I didn't want the pressure of naming him, so Ann awkwardly never refers to him by name)


End file.
